


Mistletoe

by ceruleangrace



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Post canon established relationship, inusecretsanta2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 23:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleangrace/pseuds/ceruleangrace
Summary: On Christmas Eve, Sango is still getting used to all the traditions of the new holiday Kagome has brought from the future.





	Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gosteh](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Gosteh).



> My inusecretsanta gift for Gosteh! They asked for Mirsan, with the prompts of snow and mistletoe. I hope this little short piece of fluff brings you joy this season :D!

Sango hadn’t heard of Christmas before Kagome. Honestly, the whole premise of it seemed... a bit mysterious, in her opinion. First, there was a bunch of religious undertones that hardly made sense to her. Kagome tried to explain “Christianity” and Sango had found herself very quickly zoning out. 

Next, Kagome had focused on the more exciting parts of the holiday. She’d come to spend her permanent residence here, jumping through the well and hardly looking back. She reminisced about her family, but seemed pleased overall with her decision. There were certain parts of her future life, however, that she didn’t want to give up: celebrations like these were most of them.

Sango rather enjoyed the more festive aspects. The idea of exchanging special gifts with loved ones. Decorating the forest with candles and homemade ornaments. Winter was usually such a dreary time: having something like this to break the monotony was nice. 

Tonight was Christmas Eve. Sango had made a special meal for herself and the twins (who were long since asleep). She’d hoped Miroku could join them, but Inuyasha and he were both still out on a mission in a town kilometers away. 

She’d known his return by today was unlikely, and yet... 

She’d hoped.

Wrapping her kimono tighter around herself, Sango takes a step out of their quaint home’s doorway, looking at the clouded evening. Her sigh comes out as a steaming cloud as she takes in the lingering flickers of candles hitting the end of their wax. Trees gently sway in the harsher gusts of cold wind. 

Her finger subconsciously swipes against her cheek as she feels a drop of wetness. A tear? No, she humbly accepted that she wasn’t weak enough to be brought to tears often. Another bit of wetness hits her hand. Rain? No... it was too cold. 

Looking out into the night, she sees the gentle flakes begin to fall. Snow. It had been so long. She hadn’t seen such weather in years.   
It is beautiful. 

“I had hoped I might find you in this situation,” a familiar voice interrupts her silence, making her jump to defense: an automatic reaction after years of running from Naraku and being a warrior. 

She nearly choked on her own frigid breath, her lungs protesting. But her heart warmed as she saw him.

“Miroku--” she let out her gasp, heart racing. Even after their years together, her heart still raced. 

“You see,” he continued on, eyes moving to the doorway. “Try not to be angry with me, Sango, darling, but I must confess to you, I set up a bit of a trap.”

“A... trap?” Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

He nods solemnly. “You see, Sango, Kagome had been explaining to me all the joyous festivities and traditions around this holiday. The superstitions, if you will. And it seems,” he is close to her now, close enough for her to reach out and take his hand. So she does, and its warm and whole, alive and complete in a way that only they would appreciate. They who fought so hard for a hand to be so. 

He smiles, stroking her hand with his thumb. “It seems,” he continues, “that if I hang this bit of leaves, mistletoe their called, above our doorway...” Sango looks up to the bit of leaves, its singular berry, in curiosity. “Well, I apologize for the trick Sango. But according to tradition, we are forced to kiss under this plant. And I’d not want to offend Kagome by not taking her traditions seriously...” 

He lets his words end there, trailing off into the snow. Sango, despite herself, despite everything she’s given to this man, how much of herself she’s exposed to him-- she blushes. She feels foolish, but in a good way. In a way that makes her feel light and young and new and whole. A blushing maiden. 

“You truly are foolish, Miroku.” She sighs, but her cheeks betray her, rose petals against her pale facade. She hopes the cloudy night doesn’t betray her. 

He blinks, trying to make out the enigma of her words. Her... rejection?

“I’m your wife.” She states simply, “there’s no need to go through such lengths, for a kiss of all things.”

He sighs, relieved. “I have to disagree, Sango. Winning a kissing from you, even as my wife, I still see it as a blessed reward. And if there is a way to secure such a gift for myself, in this holiday that’s all about gifts... well, I must insist on keeping this mistletoe hung.” 

He’s rambling once again, and she continues to hold his hand as she leans in to press her lips gently against his. It’s chaste, but with Miroku, nothing stays chaste for long. In moments he is turning his head to the side, deepening the kiss. She nearly gives in.

But she pulls away, flushed. 

“Sango...?” 

She brings a sleeve to her face, trying to cool her cheeks with cold hands. “Don’t get carried away. We have gifts to bring in for the girls, don’t you remember. Now that you’re here, you can help,” she giggles, teasing. 

He sighs, “Ah yes. I guess we are a family of many traditions now.” 

Sango smiled in agreement, giving one last glance to the mistletoe. There are some traditions for the holiday that she was beginning to enjoy.


End file.
